Transcendence
by RiddikulousRay
Summary: After many years away, Hermione is back in England, but it is not a friendly visit. Teaming up with the ministry, she must race against time to solve one of the most dangerous mysteries to ever plague the Wizarding World. Ruined relationships and past friends are the least of her worries, especially when she has her own band of Slytherins to fight right by her side.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I hope you enjoy my first fanfiction. I welcome any and all reviews that are constructive and help me with my writing, but I will not pay any attention to those who are nasty about my stories faults.

**Disclaimer: **I, RiddikulousRay, do not own the wonderful story that is Harry Potter. I only claim my story line or any original characters.

**Warning: **This story is rated M for a reason. If you have anything against blood, gore, sexual situations and/or adult language then _do not_ read.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The owl post arrives as the sun rises over the pond. The glass creaks under the barn owl's attempt to scratch its way through the window. The Weasley's have yet to wake from their slumber, but Harry is alert and ready to start the day. Ten years after the war and he still has trouble kicking the habit of being an early riser. It helps matters with his career, but his wife likes to complain that she never gets to have a lie in with her husband.

The remodeling at number twelve, Grimmauld Place is due to be finished in a weeks' time, and his wife suggested they stay at her childhood home until it's finished. He should have known that he'd have to deal with snoring Weasleys. It may have been years since he's taken refuge at The Burrow, but he never should have forgotten how hard it is to fall - and stay - asleep at their home.

Harry steps up from his seat at the kitchen table and stretches his arms high above his head. He walks to the window and opens it, ignoring the sound it makes in protest. He shushes the bird as quietly as he can and leaves the water bowl near the window. Feeding the bird a treat, he unties the paper from around its leg and tries to acknowledge it with a stroke across it's head.

The ruddy bird has its own objections considering the beak that flies past and pecks him harshly on the finger. Harry hisses in pain and puts his finger up to his mouth to suck at the offending digit.

"Should've waited to give you that treat," he whispers sharply, glaring at the imposing owl. "I'm not so sure you deserved it."

The owl gives him a rather impressive glare before it turns tail and flies off into the morning light. Harry shakes his head incredulously and closes the window. Looking back down at the papers, Harry must roll his eyes in order to hold in his own impatience at Mrs. Weasley's obsession with Witch Weekly.

Setting it off to the side on the table, he sifts through the letters and newspaper articles and sorts through them with boredom. It's not until he reaches the Daily Prophet that he decides to pay much more attention. The front page proudly presents the final scores to the quidditch match between the Holyhead Harpies and the Montrose Magpies.

Harry rubs his hands together in excitement at the all-female teams win. It's been a couple years since Ginny has left the team in order to take care of James, and he knows she still misses it. It doesn't help that Harry quit his position as an amateur auror in favor of playing for Puddlemere United as a seeker. Maybe their win will raise her spirits. He loves his wife dearly, but the bitterness is going to swallow them up whole.

He decides to ignore the familiar sensation of dread and flips through the pages to see if there has been anymore news that he should be aware of. When he reaches the third page, he almost drops the paper in shock. His eyes grow wide and his hands shake with suppressed emotion.

It's been over a decade since he's seen that face. Curly hair and bright amber eyes cut through the camera with lethal calculation. Her face is set in an impressive scowl that could give Draco Malfoy a run for his money. The moving photograph catches her walking down a pebble walkway, never once skipping a beat with her tall black high heels struggling through the rocks.

At the beginning of the picture, it looks like she's enjoying a peaceful walk with a paper coffee cup in her hand. Her eyes are peaceful, and a small smile plays at the edge of her lips. As soon as she turns, wild curls whipping with her movement, she spots the reporter and her eyebrows settle into a scowl.

His breath catches in his throat, because he can recognize that face anywhere. Merlin, he's spent years of hell with the witch. His childhood best friend and closest confident is photographed in the Daily Prophet, and that can only mean one thing. Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, and former best friend is back in England.

Warring emotions rage in his chest with brutal efficiency. Happiness and excitement bubbles first, but it's soon replaced with sorrow. Of course, he's happy to see his friends face after so long but being the brooding wizard his wife claims him to be, he can't help but worry that it's been too long for him to get into contact. He brushes the emotions off and reads the article that follows right below the picture.

_**Brightest-Witch-Of-Her-Age Returns to England?**_

_**By: Tracey Davis**_

_Hermione Granger, former princess of Gryffindor and respected war veteran was spotted walking down the path leading to Hogsmeade in the afternoon prior to this article. Nobody has seen Ms. Granger since the end of the second wizarding world, where she disappeared with a hasty goodbye. Based off the many articles featuring The-Boy-Who-Lived - also known as Harry Potter - and her ex-boyfriend Ronald Weasley, their female best friend and comrade left a note to those close to her to say goodbye, but they haven't heard from her since._

_We here at the Daily Prophet are enthused to report that the female third of the decorated Golden Trio has confirmed her brief return to England. Although we didn't have the chance to speak with the lovely Ms. Granger personally, it has been divulged by a close friend that she has returned to England to conclude some cases with the ministry. Hermione Granger opened her own consulting business shortly after the war and has traveled to many different countries helping others with anything from solving murder mysteries to curse breaking in the tombs of Egypt. _

_It is not known how many witches and wizards are under her employ or the level of success of her company, but it is clear that she is doing well for herself. Does this mean that the readers can look forward to a reunion between The Golden Trio? What about Harry Potter? Can he forgive her hasty goodbye and welcome her with open arms? Should we expect a romantic reunion between bachelor Ronald Weasley and seemingly single Hermione Granger? _

_We don't have the answers for you now, but we here at the Daily Prophet promise to do our utmost best to find out. For more on Hermione Granger, see page twenty, where you can read about her achievements during and after the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…_

Harry breathes deeply and rubs at his face tiredly. He can hardly believe it. There's a huge weight settling on his shoulders from the stress leaking into his entire being. An urge to floo over to Ron's flat to tell him the news (if he hasn't already heard of it), settles deep in his bones. What would he tell his mate, though? His ex-girlfriend and former best friend has arrives back into their lives without so much as informing them with a letter.

He knows that they didn't leave things on a good note when she decided to pack up her belongings and leave the wizarding world, but he expected that she would tell them if she was planning on returning. He's twenty-nine years old for Merlin's sake. He's grown and matured since their last meeting, and he was hoping she'd do the same.

Hermione is not known to be an irrational woman, and that's exactly why their world felt like it was falling when she told them in a firm tone that she was leaving England and wasn't planning on coming back. Ron was predictably angry, but it was nothing on the soul crushing despair that had fallen upon Harry. He already lost so much in the war, and here his friend was telling him that she'd be leaving too? It didn't matter how many times he decided to act like a right bastard, the curly headed witch was a constant for him. She never once turned away from him in the face of peril or his own temper, unlike Ron.

It was that exact temper that solidified everything for their parting. Ron was expecting a happy-ever-after that included everything from marriage to kids. Hermione decided that it wasn't something she could give him, and Harry chose Ron's side over hers (once again, his guilty conscious whispered at him). Nasty words were exchanged, and unforgivable actions followed shortly after. Harry was baffled at the time and didn't see that his actions would have consequences.

By the time the arguments ended, the three of them were tired and worn down from tearing each other into emotional shreds. Harry and Ron went to bed thinking they could talk some sense into the witch the next morning, but they only found an empty bedroom and a goodbye note.

_I'm sorry_, the note had read. _This isn't working for me. I've asked for your support, like I've given the both of you throughout years of friendship, and you cannot find it within yourself to give it in return. Goodbye and may we meet again. _

The note was short and filled with her angry scrawl, which showed just how much they disappointed her. Unfortunately for both wizards, the witch had gone completely off the map, and after years of searching they decided it was time to give up. She clearly didn't want to be found, and that was something that hit them harder than any rogue bludger could.

No amount of praying to the gods had brought her back to them, and Harry couldn't forgive himself for it. If he knew that night would be their last moment together, he would have never treated her the way he did.

It's funny how everyone thought that if anyone was going to pack up and split, it was going to be Harry. Hermione's leaving finally opened their eyes to what the witch had gone through. It was about time that they all realized that Harry wasn't the only one to lose his precious people.

Harry pushes his glasses up to rest on the bridge of his nose and contemplates whether he should wake his wife and her parents to give them the news. He's sure that it's only going to be a matter of time before the rest of the Weasley's find out. The twins have probably already read the news at their flat above their shop in Diagon Alley. Merlin knows they stay up all hours to experiment on products. This brings his mind back to his best mate, who is probably still snoring away in his single bedroom flat. There is no doubt that he'd be storming The Burrow if he'd seen her picture in the paper.

It didn't occur to Harry once that he should be worried about this so-called friend that the article mentioned. He was always bad at noticing details. Maybe that's why he failed so spectacularly at being an auror.

* * *

If there is one fact in the world that nobody can deny, it's that Hermione Granger is a smart witch, but now she felt like an imbecile. It's been one day since she's arrived back in England, and she's already been found out. After ten years of dodging wizarding paparazzi, she should be a professional by now.

Now that she's on her home turf, she's obviously grown sloppy. As she continues her war path, there is only one thing on her mind, and that is questioning how to kill the wizard who ruined her anonymity.

She enters the private office with her heels clicking away on the hard floor. "Do you prefer muggle or wizard methods for death? For example, knife or castration by cutting hex?"

"Is there a reason your barging into my home and threatening me?" The overly polite voice asks with forced innocence.

"I don't know, you tell me," she replies with a sweet undertone that has sent lesser men to their knees begging for forgiveness. "I got a nasty surprise when the paper was delivered this morning. I had an anonymous friend divulge personal details to the press."

The platinum blonde wizard tries to keep his face straight, but being friends for as long as they have, she can detect the small wince. "What makes you think it was me?"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," she purrs his name dangerously. "The only person in England who knows anything about my personal life is you."

"I'm sorry, okay?" he pleads with her while holding his hands up in surrender. "Someone was going to see you eventually. I assumed you would want to control the outbreak of gossip. Who knows what they would have wrote if they knew nothing of your personal life? Instead of writing about your achievements, they could have prattled on about your past with Weasley for all we know."

Hermione sees right through his bullshit, but she huffs with reluctant amusement anyways. "You just wanted to hit them where it hurts, didn't you?"

The wizard may be a reformed Death Eater, but even he isn't opposed to getting revenge on her behalf. He's a snake through and through, and that will never change, no matter what he tries to show the public. Rebuilding the Malfoy name was something he strived to do after the war and he has succeeded, so he can't be caught doing anything that could damage the view of the public eye.

"Anything for my favorite witch," he smirks and crosses his arms over his expensive suit. Merlin knows how much he paid for it. "You have to admit it was subtle though. Pure genius I tell you."

Oh, she knows alright. She can picture Ronald foaming at the mouth with the thought of her keeping in contact with a friend here in England. The article hints that she's kept in contact with someone close enough to her that they know personal details about her life. Hermione can only imagine how much that bruised his massive ego. One part of her giggles with malicious glee, but the other part wants to scold her friend.

"I would say smugness doesn't suit you, but I'd be lying." Hermione sighs and taps her heeled foot on the floor.

Draco visibly preens while trying to remain nonchalant. "This is why you're one of my best friends. You give compliments when they're due."

"Don't be such a git," she says with fondness as she rolls her eyes. "I didn't come here just to threaten you with murder."

"Really? What else is hiding behind your beautiful brain and clever wit?" Draco asks jokingly, but she can still see the worry in his eyes.

"I know you have plans to take your husband out tonight, but I have a favor to ask of you."

"You know you can ask me anything. What is it?"

"The ministry has sent me a missive explaining what case I'll be working on," Hermione says tiredly and smooths out her wrap around dress. "It's not looking good, Draco. I may need access to your hidden library."

Draco's eyes light up in understanding as he shuffles in his seat nervously. "So, it's that kind of case? I haven't heard anything from my contacts."

"You shouldn't have heard anything," she gives him a stern look. "The Minister has been trying to keep it under wraps. The press won't be hearing anything unless things escalate out of their control. Kingsley let it slip that I'd be working with the unspeakable's and auror's, and you know how silent that lot is with their secrets."

"Can you tell me what it's about?" he asks hesitantly, already knowing the answer. "It makes me nervous that I haven't heard anything. It must be serious if they've called you in as well."

Hermione wishes she could tell him - she really does - but there's too much at risk. The best she can do is leave him with some advice. "All I can say is that you and your husband should stay inside during dark and set up some very strong wards. This is something I've never came across before or even thought possible."

Even though she knows that he won't hold her lack of information against her, she can't help but feel a pang of regret. His face pales with understanding. If it's something she of all people never thought possible, it must be something big.

With years of experience dealing with the unknown, she was sure that nothing could surprise her anymore. That all changed when she returned to England at the request of Kingsley. Every day has been a new adventure for her ever since she left this poisonous place behind, and it seems like this time is no different. Hermione's just not sure that it's going to be a good adventure this time. The outcome relies heavily on her ability as a witch.

Draco clears his throat and puts his mask back into place. "I'll let Theo know. What kind of wards do you suggest?"

"As many protective wards as you have the ability to cast," she says bluntly. No one can ever say that she was one to beat around the bush. "Anti-apparition, Anti-trace. Merlin, I'd even suggest the Fidelius Charm if you can manage it."

If it was even possible, his face turns several shades paler. "You've got to be kidding me, Granger."

"I wouldn't say anything if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that the threat is real."

"I don't think Theo or I can cast the Fidelius Charm, let alone figure out who to have as a secret keeper."

"Hire someone to do it. I'm sure that with your extensive network you'll be able to figure it out," she walks up to him and brushes her lips against his cheek in a fond farewell kiss. "Give my love to Theo and let me know if you cast the charm."

Draco wraps his arms around her and brings her in for a tight hug. "It was good to see you, Granger. I'll send you an owl when we get the wards up. Be aware that Theo and I are planning on hosting dinner for an old friend in a couple of days. Theo will insist on inviting you no matter how much I try to convince him that you're hardly polite company."

"Why must Theo be gay?" Hermione bemoans and shoves him playfully. "I would have stolen him from you ages ago."

"If he ever decides to leave me, I will tell him that you're the highest on my list for potential replacements." Draco smirks in amusement before walking her to the door. She would complain about it, but she already knows how the wizard feels about chivalry. Pureblood manners cannot be replaced no matter how much the aftermath of the war affected those old customs. "Seriously, though. Keep an eye out for our owl. And dress pretty."

"I always dress pretty, you prat."

"If only that were true," he says incredulously. "Don't make me come over and help you pick something out."

Hermione's face freezes in horror, which makes him laugh mockingly at her. His husband thought they got along so well because both friends were highly dramatic. He's not wrong in that regard. Just the thought of her friend coming over to help her pick out an outfit is enough to send ice through her veins.

Draco with anything relating to fashion is worse than any girl she shared a dormitory with at Hogwarts. It doesn't help matters that she wore clothes from all the different cultures she has visited in the past ten years, and the insufferable git standing in front of her always gives her grief about it. It's not her fault that he doesn't like her bohemian dresses. She thinks that they look great with her caramel skin tone. It's her guess that he's just jealous that he's stuck with pasty white skin that refuses to tan.

"I'm going to dress in anything I like, and I don't particularly care what you have to say about it." Hermione retorts as she rushes to the door. Ignoring his laughing behind her, she walks down the path leading to the apparition point. She hollers at him one last time before she spins and disappears with a crack. "Just you wait, Malfoy! I'm going to knock your husband's socks off with my appearance. He'll leave you for me soon enough!"

She twists and disappears during his laughter and thanks whatever gods that are listening that she's found a good friend in Draco Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Welcome to Chapter 2! The POV's will vary throughout the story. To be truthful, there is no method to my madness. I just kind of write when it comes to me, no matter who is portraying my words at the time. Harry, Hermine, Draco, and Blaise will be common voices. Hell, if you're lucky you may even get inside the head of the Giant Squid.

**Disclaimer:** I, RiddikulousRay, do not own the wonderful story that is Harry Potter. I only claim my story line or any original characters.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The news spread quickly, and before they knew it, all anyone could talk about was the Gryffindor Golden Girl. It didn't matter how short-tempered Harry was with everyone, they still insist on stopping him and asking if he'd seen her and _how is she doing_?

He wanted to scream that he didn't know because the witch who was supposed to be his best friend couldn't find it within herself to tell him she was coming back to Britain. How fucked up was that?

It's not something he could exactly scream out to the world. It'd make him seem inadequate. What kind of person was he if his supposed best friend couldn't tell him she was back?

It didn't take long for Ron to burst into The Burrow demanding answers. Apparently, he forgoes reading the paper in favor of taking a trip to The Ministry - where he was bombarded with the same questions as Harry. Okay, that's a lie. Ron's questions consisted more of hopes on renewing love and well wishes.

Ron had no idea what the hell was going on, which he made clear when he stepped out of the fireplace raging at anyone who would listed that everyone must have gone barmy overnight. Harry told him in no uncertain terms that yes, Hermione is back, and she didn't have the decency to stop by with so much as a hello.

If he could take it back, he would. Harry is a reasonable wizard (at least in his own opinion, his wife's not so much), and seeing his mates face crush into confused despair really pulled on his hero instincts. It made his red and gold heart scream for retribution against Hermione, but he squashed the urge.

That's what got him in trouble in the first place! His wife is in feverous agreement that he needs to stay out of it and let Ron deal with his emotional turmoil on his own. She's never agreed with the way he left things off with Hermione, especially since she was a number one supporter on the curly headed witch's departure.

Some may think that she was happy to get rid of competition, but anyone who knows Harry personally can see that Ginny Weasley is the only witch for him.

Ginny was genuinely happy for Hermione when she came to her to bounce her idea off the witch. She said it was about time the witch did something for herself and no one else.

Everyone is selfish and it was her right to take her turn. Lord knows that the witch has had to deal with Harry and Ron's shit for far too long.

When Hermione didn't show back up in England after her time away, Ginny fervently blamed her husband and brother. Harry would never forget the hex he got when Ginny realized that Luna Lovegood was going to have to be her bridesmaid.

Wickedness is something his wife has in spades, but at that moment, he wished she didn't. What was once an endearing trait turned into the need to run like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

So, when he mentioned to his lovely - and beautiful - wife that Hermione was back in England, you can imagine his own terror at the backlash he would get from his wife for not telling her as soon as he knew.

It was a relief when he got off with a minor bat-bogey hex. Her brothers swear that hex is her most terrifying spell meant for retribution, but they have no idea that she takes it easy on them. Harry, not so much.

On good days. he thanks the gods for blessing him with such a woman, but on bad days he's bemoaning about his decision to marry the fiery witch. He adores her-he really does-but there's no in between. It's either a good day or bad day.

Today is a bad day.

"Harry James Potter!" His wife shrieks at him. "I can't believe the nerve of you!"

Harry shushes her out of habit, temporarily forgetting that his witch is out to murder him. "It's not a big deal, Gin. You would have found out eventually. James kept you up late and I wanted to let you sleep."

"Did you just-?" she cuts herself off and narrows her eyes dangerously. "You did. I can't believe you."

"Yes, yes. We already covered that," Harry rolls his eyes and rubs at his face tiredly. "You can't believe the nerve I have. Go ahead and blame me for wanting my wife to get some rest."

Her lovely brown eyes flash with warmth, but they're quick to harden right back up. Her expressiveness is another thing to add onto the long list of things he loves about her. "What makes you think that my rest is more important? 'Mione is back, Harry! We must go find her! Maybe we can catch her before she takes off again!"

"Calm down, sweetheart," he soothes. "What makes you think she wants to see us anyways? She's the one who left, remember?"

If his voice is drowning in bitterness, she doesn't comment on it. Years of practice allows her the ability to dodge any subject that's going to end in her dealing with a broody wizard. "Of course, she wants to see us. She hasn't even met James yet, Harry. He's her godson for Merlin's sake!"

"If she were here when he was born, she would know that." Harry says with acid coating his tongue. The truth is that he felt so bad about their parting that he couldn't bear to name anyone else godmother. It didn't matter that she wasn't present, it helped soothe his own guilt.

It helped in practice, but he should have realized at the time that the boy was going to grow up only knowing his godmother from books and word of mouth. The little tyke is five years old now, and he still asks endless questions about his godmother. He blames her. He blames himself.

"You have no one to blame but yourself, you stubborn git. Quit using Ron's childish grudge as your own shield. It's time to move on, and I bet you if we make it to the ministry in time, we'll catch her there."

It doesn't take long for him to be swept up through the fireplace, being shoved in as he was. Despite the protests falling from his lips, his wife dutifully ignores him and sends him on his way in a blaze of green fire and cough inducing powder. When he hears the workers buzzing around like bees, he knows she sent him to the ministry. He groans and steps to the side in order to make room for her when she comes through.

For all his preaching about working for the ministry when he was young and a fresh war hero, he never stood a chance. Hermione always said that him and Ron would need to learn discipline if they were going to make it in the auror department. They were too accustomed to running off on their own to solve mysteries that they didn't realize that they'd have to follow actual orders.

It came as no surprise to their families when they quit to become quidditch professionals. Ron finally made his dream come true by playing Keeper for the Chuddley Cannons, and Harry became a Seeker for Puddlemere United.

While pondering, it doesn't take long for Ginny to come through the fireplace. He's not sure if it makes him a bad husband when he catches himself hoping she had gotten lost somewhere on the way. Harry looks at the hyper five-year-old sitting on her hip and decides that yes, it does make him a terrible husband.

And an even more terrible father.

They make their way up to Kingsley's office, listening to James' chatter the entire way. The boy loves his Quidditch much more than his parents. It's easy to tell with the gibbering and mock broom noises he makes.

Once they reach the ministers door, they knock and wait for his customary booming voice to grant them permission to enter. "Enter!"

"'Ello, Kingsley." Harry greets as he walks through the door. It's not often he sees the former Order member.

Ginny whacks him on the back of his head with a sharply whispered admonishment.

"Minister," she corrects. "It's good to see you."

"Ah!" Kings booms with a bright smile. "Well if it isn't the Potters! What can I do for you today?"

As soon as they take their seats, Ginny doesn't waste time with more pleasantries. "We seen the Daily Prophet and were wondering if Hermione was around. Its been ages since we've seen her and wanted to say hello."

"Yes, yes." Kingsley states solemnly, not warming up anymore due to the question. "I can confirm Ms. Granger's return to London, but I cannot tell you of her whereabouts now. She left not long ago to catch up with someone."

Harry raises his brow and lets the smug feeling roll around his chest. Maybe this will stop his wife from trying to contact the wild haired witch. It's not like he's the one his old friend is trying to contact. Who else would she need to see? Harry is no longer sure. Hermione burned a lot of bridges when she left.

Ginny slumps with dejection and he hates to see his wife so unhappy. "Do you know who that someone is?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter. I would tell you if I knew," he says comfortingly. "What I can tell you is that she will be present at the auror meeting taking place in a couple of hours. If you come back towards five o'clock, you may catch her on her way out."

"Thank you so much, Minister!" Ginny beams with happiness while bouncing James on her knee. "That helps a ton!"

It's Harry's turn to slump, knowing his wife won't let him miss the opportunity to see Hermione. He also thinks about why Hermione would be present during the Auror meeting. He seen that the paper mentioned her involvement with wrapping up some cases with the ministry, but assumed it was speculation.

Harry figured that she'd be off saving house elves and whatever activist tripe she was always going on about during school. It is unpleasant to think of her involvement with whatever is happening. What could be so terrible that they must call in Hermione Granger, master of solving problems? Knowing he can't ask anything from Kingsley, he keeps his mouth shut.

"No problem at all," Kings says with a smile and holds out a piece of candy for James. "I hope you catch up with her."

They say their farewells, and Harry can't help but think that it's going to be a long wait. In the meantime, he will get to decide if telling Ron is a good idea or a disastrous one. Time will only tell.

* * *

Hermione sits through the auror meeting with barely concealed impatience. For such a dark time, it doesn't seem like the wizards and witches are taking things very seriously. Twelve people native to their community show up dead and drained of every single drop of blood in their bodies, some showing up dismembered past recognition and they're sitting around joking with each other?

It makes her want to gag.

The head auror sits at the front table, surrounded by various important members of the auror force. The room is filled to the brim with those dressed in their auror robes, which makes her stand out in her muggle clothing. She doesn't care much, but she has received many sharp glances.

That is, until they recognize her, and then their eyebrows shoot up with surprise.

At the risk of sounding like Draco Malfoy, they're peasants. The whole lot of them.

By the end of the meeting nothing has been accomplished, and it turns her stomach. Instead of waving the white flag, Hermione steps up to Head Auror Humphrey. The aging, bald man looks up and Hermione must hide her grimace when his jowls jiggle with the abrupt movement.

"Mr. Humphrey," she greets the irresponsible man. "Have you heard from Minister Kingsley in regard to my choosing of a partner?"

The man waves her off dismissively. "Yes, my dear. He was quite clear on it. Have you decided who you would like to work with?"

Hermione looks around the room, trying to spot someone who she would be able to work with for the duration of the case. Her eyes land on the only person who seemed to take the meeting just as seriously as her. His gaze is stuck on the board holding pictures of all the victims. The calculative look in his eyes tells her he's not a pompous auror with his badge stuck up his ass.

"Indeed." Hermione says with a small smirk.

"Who?" Mr. Humphrey asks impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor. "You may have all the time in the world, but some of us have work to do Ms. Granger."

The smirk slides right off her face. Hermione thought that she would be able to work with this man peacefully, but it seems like the pudgy wizard was going to cause her issues. Issues she has no time to deal with.

"See him right there?" she questions as she gestures towards the mysterious wizard. "Who is that?"

For some reason, the young man looks remarkably familiar. They look to be around the same age, so there's a possibility that they attended Hogwarts together. Surely, she would remember someone that handsome though.

With his dark skin and eyes that resembled the bluest of oceans in the world, the man is something to behold. She's seen plenty of attractive men during her travels, but the intelligent glint in his eyes called to her. Kindred spirits perhaps?

As her eyes roamed down his body, she finds herself feeling dissatisfied that his auror robes hide most of his physique. Hermione knows that she's going to have to keep her wandering eyes on lock down if the young wizard decides to work with her. Business and pleasure do not mix. It's a rule she has learned personally.

The head auror sputters with indignation. "That's my best investigator, you'll have to choose someone else."

"See this slip here, Mr. Humphrey?" Hermione asks rhetorically while handing him the note from Kingsley. "This is permission from the minister himself claiming that I have rights to pick whoever I want. Now, judging on the airheads that seem to fill this room, that auror will be the best choice to get the job done."

Hermione doesn't want to be pushy about it, but with all the random deaths and disappearances, it's best to hurry the process along. The last thing she needs is some power struggle with a man who cares more for image rather than results.

The old wizard rubs at the stubble on his jaw. "While I understand that the minister gave you special privileges, I don't think I can allow you to take him."

"With all due respect," a deep and commanding voice interrupts their squabble. "I don't enjoy being fought over like an object."

The wizard who they were fighting over steps up behind her, his voice sending chills down her spine. "I must apologize. It seems like your superior doesn't care about solving this case."

Hermione winces at her own blunt words. She knows that she's not the most tactful person but working on her own has given her freedom from these types of power struggles. There's no time to be squabbling like children over a toy.

Mr. Humphrey shakes his head and sighs defeatedly. "Mr. Zabini meet Ms. Granger. She came to me with a proposition I have no doubt you'll be interested in. I'll leave the two of you to discuss details."

The old wizard walks off with a slump in his shoulders, making guilt settle into her stomach. Hermione ignores it and turns to the familiar wizard. It wasn't until she heard his last name that she remembered the Slytherin. "I'm sorry about that. He was getting on my nerves."

Blaise waves her apology off. "Don't worry about it, Granger. I remember my first time meeting him."

"I must admit, two minutes into knowing him and I was ready to walk out that door and never look back." Hermione says with a sheepish smile.

"Wouldn't that be the dream," he smirks attractively, white teeth on display. "Now what is this so-called proposition you have for me?"

Hermione ducks her head to hide her blush. Why in the world did he have to make it sound so suggestive? It doesn't help that his eyes are running down her body. She feels it like a caress. _Business before pleasure_, she reminds herself.

Hermione straightens up and explains the situation. "Minister Kingsley hired my consulting business to investigate the recent killings and made it clear that I could choose a partner from the auror department. It would put people at ease if I had an official ministry employee with me. I could also use the help."

Blaise tilts his head to the side as he regards her. "I wouldn't be opposed to it, but first tell me what's in it for me?"

"See this badge?" Hermione questions and holds it up for him. "You'll get one of these. It will give you access to everything involving this case. Including the Department of Mysteries. We'll be working with the unspeakables indirectly, but it still gives you the highest clearance. Outside the minister of course."

"Of course," he echoes with a lazy smile. The glint in his eyes giving away just how pleased he is with the circumstances. "Do you have any one else working on this?"

"I have a few of my own employees investigating, but nothing concrete."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" he questions the wild haired witch. "Are you going to get me one of those fancy badges or not?"


End file.
